


The Last Goodbye

by KyeAbove



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood, Character Death, Dying As Yourself, Gen, Past Character Death, Wally is the Ink Demon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyeAbove/pseuds/KyeAbove
Summary: Wally and Sammy are alone, in the end.





	1. The Leaving

Wally couldn't help but wonder what Henry was doing now. Even if it was just to distract himself from the gouges in his side. The slices Henry had inflicted with that axe. Wally knew Henry didn’t mean it to be this way. Henry was just trying to defend himself, and Wally had no way of communicating properly with Henry.  
  
The Ink Demon wasn’t Joey, like Henry seemed to believe. It was just him. Wally Franks.  
  
With every step, Wally got his wish. Every step, more ink slipped away, and more of him reformed. It seemed that with death came humanity. Soon, he could no longer pass through walls, and he had to drag himself, and his broken leg, up flights of stairs. Broken, because Joey had thrown him down a set when he'd tried escaping.  
  
Ink turned to bone, and with it came pain. Ink turned to blood, and it dripped down his side. The suit he’d been wearing when all this happened to him returned, his bow-tie still crooked and loose. Wally was dressed for a funeral, but this time, he knew it would be his own.  
  
For thirty years, his mind had been hijacked by the ink. The sight of Henry had started jogging memories. Then, somehow, Wally had remembered everything. But he also remembered all that he’d done as the Ink Demon. Maybe he was meant to die.  
  
“Guess I should have gotten out of here…” Wally hissed, as soon as his mouth reformed. It was was so odd, but wonderful to speak. To feel his tongue on his teeth. To breath like he was supposed to.  
  
“Wally?”  
  
That voice made Wally stop, when he thought he would stop for nothing. He planned to find some nice place to curl up and die, and leave everyone wondering. But that voice...  
  
“Sammy?”  
  
Wally had killed Sammy. How was he still around? It had to be a trick of the mind. Wishful thinking.  
  
From the shadows, covered in ink, but not ink, stepped out a man. Aged not a day past thirty-five, all olive skin and dirty blond hair and hazel eyes and _human_ , was Sammy. Wally was too far gone to question this further, or care if this was a trick of his dying mind. Just as he lost the several feet the ink had given him, he collapsed into Sammy, crying.  
  
Sammy didn’t say anything. He let Wally cry the tears Wally had needed to cry for thirty years. What he did though was pull Wally to the ground. So there wasn’t as much pressure on his broken leg. There they sat, leaning against a wall, ignoring the blood covering the both of them. This was a reunion, and while it would come to an end, Wally didn’t need to think about that now.  
  
It was just them, for those brief, fleeting minutes where Wally could forget his pain and his regret.  
  
The smell of blood, his blood, reminded him of the bitter truth. Wally pulled away from Sammy, and sniffled. He pulled his good leg up to his chest, and bit at his nails.  
  
“I’m glad I get to see you one last time. I don’t think I’m gonna make it.” Wally prodded the wounds, and winced at the shooting pain. He’d forgotten what pain had felt like. Just like he’d forgotten what hunger did to him. “I’m gonna die, and I’m suddenly thinking about food. Maybe I would have been better off being a Boris, huh?”  
  
“I don’t think you would have been any safer.” Sammy pointed out, handing Wally a can of bacon soup. A fitting, final meal.  
  
“No, I don’t think so. Damn angel.” Even as the Ink Demon, Wally had a soft spot for the various Borises that formed over the years. Even if they were just as mindless as the Searchers. Maybe that was why Alice went after them the most. She’d always hated him. Maybe she thought the Ink Demon was Joey Drew too.  
  
God knew where Joey was, but if he was gone, he was still stalking and hurting Wally from beyond the grave.  
  
Wally downed the bacon soup in one go. Wally didn’t have time to sip and chat.  
  
“Promise me you won’t cry?” Wally requested, fighting to smile. After almost thirty years with a grin stuck to his face, he couldn’t do it. Sammy smiled for him. It wasn’t a happy smile, but Wally's frozen smile hadn't been happy either.  
  
“I’ll try not to.”  
  
Wally closed his eyes. Wally would never know for sure, but he liked to think his eyes were back to the baby blue he'd always spotted in mirrors. Everything about him was back to as it should have been. Thirty years too young looking, but human once more.  
  
“You truly were the best. You…” Wally rested his head on Sammy’s shoulder. “You were nice to me when I was...all these years, you kept trying. Even though you were just as crazy as I was.”  
  
Sammy threw an arm around Wally. 

"I did it because you're special to me. You always have been."

Wally knew this truly was the end. Blood loss. Wally had always wanted to die of old age.  
  
“Thank you. Thank you for being my prophet... _my friend._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wally was hallucinating Sammy, by the way. Better to have a friend in the end that confront in your dying moments that you really did kill your best friend.


	2. The Losing

Henry hadn’t seen the Ink Demon in some time. 

‘Probably still licking his wounds.’ Henry thought, rubbing his head, and the axe felt heavier in his arms. Henry hadn’t wanted to hurt the Ink Demon like that. Well, he did, but only to protect himself. 

It was oddly quiet without the Ink Demon. Allison had said that with the Ink Machine off, the Ink Demon would have to heal naturally. Unless someone was in the puddles, or the Ink Machine was on, all afflicted injuries mattered. 

Henry had gotten the Ink Demon good. When he’d limped up behind Henry, Henry had been on guard, and quicker that time. The Ink Demon had dissolved into the floor after prodding at the wounds at his side. The sounds he’d made while doing so almost made Henry pity him. 

But the Ink Demon was probably Joey, so it was a pretty sharp ‘almost’ 

Sighing, Henry shook off his worry. The Ink Demon was fine. The Ink Demon didn’t deserve any sort of sorrow from him. Henry had to find where Alice had stored Boris’s heart, so he could bring him back. The Ink Demon hadn’t had it, so if the Ink Demon was content to leave him alone while his wounds healed, Henry was happy to not worry. 

Happy, until he turned a corner, and like fate, saw a familiar face. Only, that face was empty, and there was blood everywhere. Wally Franks was leaning against a wall, too still.

“Wally?” Henry called, shakily. He hoped for a response, but he received none  Even though he hadn’t seen the young man in thirty years, Henry still remembered  _ everything. _

Henry raced over, and shook the young man lightly. “Wally?” He repeated, and still Wally was stone still. Henry felt for a pulse. Nothing. Henry grabbed Wally slowly, hoping it'd fix it somehow, but it didn't. It didn't. 

Wally’s leg was twisted. He had several deep gashes through his side. He-

No.

**_NO._ **

Those were the same marks Henry had inflicted on the Ink Demon, and Henry remembered them so vividly now. But the Ink Demon was most likely Joey. The Ink Demon was somewhere fine. But Wally Franks was dead in his arms, with all the same injuries the Ink Demon had when Henry last saw him.  

So, all this time he was wrong, and now he was suffering for that mistake. 

Henry had killed Wally, even though he never meant to kill the demon, not matter who he’d been under all the ink. 

Tears fell from Henry’s eyes quicker than he could ever hope to wipe them away.

And Wally was so forsakenly cold. 


End file.
